The Politics of Desire

When Elvira woke up again, she was in a private hospital owned by the Allen family. Sunlight stabbed at her eyes. There was an IV line in her hand, and every wound on her body ached faintly.

"Ms. Elvira, you're finally awake."

A nurse adjusted the IV for her while speaking with concern. "You're badly injured and need to stay for observation. Your medical bills have already been taken care of."

Elvira stared blankly at the ceiling, silent. She didn't need to guess who paid.

Just then, a deep voice came from the door—one that was achingly familiar. "I came to check on you."

Elvira turned sharply and saw Vincent standing in the doorway in his suit, looking tall and composed. There was no expression on his face. He merely glanced at her bandaged wounds.

Then, he reached out, as if to touch her forehead.

"You didn't fall for me, so why bother visiting a stalker?" Elvira turned from him, her tone sharp with mockery.

Vincent halted, withdrawing his hand. "If I don't come, who else will care about you?"

His words struck a nerve.

He was right. Besides a dead mother, a biased father, and a pretentious stepmother, Elvira had no one else in her corner. That house stopped being her home long ago.

These three years, it was always Vincent who appeared when she needed someone. She got used to relying on him and fooled herself into thinking she had found a safe harbor, yet he ended up pushing her into the abyss.

"Even if no one comes, I don't need you." Elvira drew a deep breath, holding on to the last bit of her pride. "You're the one who said we were done. I'm not pathetic enough to cling to you."

Her tone deliberately took on a cutting edge. "Did you think I meant it when I said I fell in love? I was just talking. I was just a sexual partner to you, and you were just an outlet for me to vent my desires. Besides, your skills are mediocre. Once I've recovered, I'll find someone younger and better in bed."

Vincent stared at her red-rimmed eyes and her forced bravado. His brow twitched almost imperceptibly.

At that moment, the nurse rushed back in. "Mr. Allen, Ms. Elena is done with her check-up, and she's been asking for you."

Hearing that, Elvira flung the cup beside her at his feet. "Get out. I don't need you here!"

Vincent looked at her for a few seconds. Then, he spoke, his voice distant. "I'm here because Lilian is your friend. She asked me to look after you."

Elvira couldn't help but laugh, trembling so hard it pulled at every injured muscle. "Don't worry. I'm not that delusional."

Something flickered faintly in Vincent's eyes, so fast it was barely noticeable.

It was the first time he had ever seen Elvira cry. Even when he pushed her to her limits in bed, she only bit her lip stubbornly. Her eyes would be slightly red, but she'd never shed tears.

His throat moved, as though he wanted to say something, but in the end, he simply followed the nurse out the door.

When his back disappeared, Elvira collapsed against the bed, the pillow silently soaking her tears.

…

The next few days were torture.

She stayed in the hospital alone.

Changing dressings hurt so much that she broke out in cold sweats. Food tasted like nothing, and she didn't have a single person around to pour her a glass of water.

Meanwhile, the VIP ward next door was overflowing with care.

Sometimes, she would overhear the nurses whispering in the hallway about how lucky Elena was. Vincent fed her himself, wiped her hands, and watched over her through the night.

For her peace of mind, he even called in the Allen family's elite bodyguards to guard the door around the clock so tightly that not even a fly could get in.

Once, while passing that room, Elvira saw through the slightly open door that Vincent was peeling an apple at Elena's bedside, slow and patient.

Elena leaned on his shoulder with a soft smile. She was playing with the diamond bracelet Vincent had once given Elvira.

That sight felt like a bullet ripping straight through her heart, but she didn't cry.

She was Elvira Corleone, the Corleone Principessa. Even if she lost everything, she would not lose her pride.

From this day forward, she vowed never to shed another tear for Vincent.

…

On the day she was discharged, the sun was bright and warm. Elvira removed the hospital gown and slipped into a striking dress.

She didn't return home. Instead, she headed straight to the embassy and applied for an emergency visa.

Norwell held everything she had ever loved and everything she had ever hated. Now, she wanted only to leave it behind.